28

28: A Champion Named (September 20, 2003 to September 21, 2003, September 26, 2003 to September 28, 2003)

Like before, like last time- it worked. Mentally Harry was shitting himself. He couldn't believe he'd just shaken off an Unforgivable and cast an Unforgivable just like that in front of Voldemort. What a way not to get attention directed at him. Damn it all! Gritting his teeth together, he glanced at Severus' glazed over eyes. He might as well end this as soon as possible. "Give me your wand," he snapped impatiently, his hand reaching out toward the wand that was almost within reach. "Hand me your wand, Snape!"

There wasn't enough force behind his words. Severus might not be able to throw the Imperius curse as easily as he did it, but he still had a strong strength of mind that could resist. Harry knew that; he was certain that Voldemort knew that. And it wasn't that he hadn't put his own stubborn will behind his command, it was also that he was starting to feel weary from the volume of spells he'd cast.

It wasn't everyday that a wizard broke through the Cruciatus curse long enough to attack the wizard holding the curse and still manage to stay conscious enough to end the spell himself. In addition, he'd been placed under the Imperius curse and had actually cast the Unforgivable for a second time on his Severus! If he hadn't hit his majority, he'd feel the magical strain- strain from casting too much magic. As it was, he only felt the beginnings of exhaustion.

This was going to be a stalemate. Severus wasn't strong enough to breakthrough the Imperius and he didn't have enough strength inside of him to force Severus to obey him. Harry was sure Voldemort was getting a kick out of this. How ironic that everything he'd done thus far in the tournament had ended spectacularly and this was going to end on a deadlock.

"Give the wand to me, Snape!" Harry exclaimed harshly, hoping that it'd work. It didn't. Severus had the mind power to resist, and Harry was afraid if he tried to physically move toward Severus and take the wand from him that he'd lose the tenuous hold that he had over Severus. All his concentration was focusing on keeping the Imperius curse on Severus. He didn't know how long he was going to be able to hold it.

It was his choice. He could try to use the disarming spell on Severus and risk that his unstable hold on the Potions Master would give out, freeing Severus to counterattack. Or he could continue on with the stalemate until Severus' resolve weakened, there was no telling how long that could take. The real question was did he want to win? Did he really want to win the Triwizard?

Yes. His ego did. He wanted to prove to himself that he could win this thing even when the odds weren't tilted in his favor. Damn it, he was a good wizard! He wasn't just a good wizard because everyone helped him along the way like everyone thought! He narrowed his eyes and drew his wand away from the hold that he had on the Imperius curse. He actually saw the magical thread that laced from his wand to where it wrapped around Severus' body, holding him under his spell waver. It didn't break yet though.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted hoarsely. Harry actually felt the control of the Imperius curse slip from his grasp at the same time that he tried to cast the disarming spell. Inside he cussed as he saw Severus quickly spring into action, trying to evade and counter with a spell of his own.

Severus didn't quite avoid it. The spell hit him just as he countered with an "Expelliarmus!" of his own. He lost his wand, but he smiled with a brief sense of satisfaction that Sebastian also lost his wand. He was proud of his prized pupil. Sebastian had fought well even under the combined strained of having two Unforgivables cast on him. Impressive indeed.

After the initial adrenaline faded, he sighed tiredly. He hadn't been given a choice in the matter. He hadn't wanted to show Voldemort the extent of Sebastian's powers, but Karkaroff had forced his hand when he'd cast the Cruciatus curse on Sebastian. He'd had no other choice but to try an Unforgivable and he'd chosen the one he knew that Sebastian could shrug off rather easily. Well, not that easily after having suffered through Cruciatus, he'd almost thought he'd gotten Sebastian under his thrall.

If Voldemort had been casting it- it might have worked. Then again no other wizard, not even Dumbledore now compared to the Dark Lord of Europe. He shook his head, trying to lessen the weariness that he felt keenly inside himself. It worked a bit, enough that he was able to reach down with his hand to help Sebastian up. "Are you all right?" he inquired, concern coloring his voice.

"Yes," Harry responded, attempting to smile. "I'm fine, are you all right?"

"I'm not the one that had two Unforgivables cast on me," Severus retorted blithely, though his eyes held not the slightest bit of reproach. Lowering his head down so that he could whisper into Sebastian's ear without the chance of anyone overhearing them, "You certainly made a scene for the Dark Lord. Be careful of what you do now, Sebastian, you already interested him before."

Sebastian's eyes widened with alarm, but since Severus was so close to him he didn't catch the alarm in those deep green eyes. "I have no doubts that he will request your presence after the Tournament," Severus continued in a hushed tone. "What you have shown at this moment exceeds everything that has ever been done in any of the previous Tournaments by any of the winners. Be careful, Sebastian, be careful!"

There were times that he was rather oblivious, but this wasn't one of them. He understood precisely what Severus was trying to warn him about. So the rumors must be true then, what he'd heard going around Durmstrang like wild fire. That the Triwizard Tournament was the top Death Eater recruit, that the winner was favored specially by Voldemort and elevated into a high status either within the ranks of Death Eaters or in another manner.

Fear rose inside. What had he done? His stupid, stupid ego. His moronic desire to prove himself. That was his Slytherin side coupled with his Gryffindor headlong flight into anything challenging that drove him. What was he going to do? Hope and pray that bias would win out and that Sahar would win? She probably was anyway, since he technically hadn't won the third duel. It was a draw since both wizards had lost their wands. Did that mean they would have to duel again?

"I believe," Voldemort spoke up from his ideal vantage spot in the judges' box, "that despite the fact both wizards were disarmed in the duel, that the winner of the duel is without a doubt, Sebastian Biggerstaff. He not only repelled Snape's Imperius curse, but also managed to disarm his opponent before his opponent disarmed him. The victory goes to him."

The crowd seemed too stun for a good minute before the broke into applause and the announcer declared over the magically enhanced sound system that the Triwizard Tournament was over. "That concludes another amazing Triwizard Tournament, all that is left is for the overall champion of the Tournament to be declared. The judges are busy getting their marks for Biggerstaff down to us where we'll then process them and give you the results as soon as we receive them!"

Announcers were annoying but necessary. The meaningless voice grated on Voldemort's nerves as he sat through the Tournament, blocking out the senseless commentary while he rated the champions on his own scale. He smiled grimly as he held his wand over the paper that he had to magically sign with his magical signature the score he'd give Biggerstaff. While his only daughter had been impressive, she was not as marvelous as the young parselmouth.

Such potential in one so young. It intrigued the bloody hell out of him, especially considering that Biggerstaff reminded him so much of himself. The remarkable similarities between them hadn't gone unnoticed by him. It was rather astonishing. Same colorings, same built, same abilities. It was almost like they were twins, almost. He'd almost say that Biggerstaff was a long lost relative of his, but he was nearly certain that there was no one else out there with Slytherin blood. That was besides the blood that he carried through his veins and had passed on to Sahar.

Was it possible? Was Sebastian Biggerstaff a true Slytherin by bastard birthright? It was a possibility, a slim one at that. Nonetheless, it was strange for the parselmouth ability to appear in one that didn't have Slytherin blood. None had been recorded in wizarding history, then again before it would have been considered dark magic and condemned outright even if there was nothing harmful about it!

Those ignorant ingrates! Performing dark magic didn't automatically make someone an evil villain whose whole aim in life was to destroy and destruct! He narrowed his crimson eyes as his gaze swept through the crowd. A majority of those in the stands were only complacent because he was so strong. If Dumbledore, his eyes swept toward the miserable bumbling wizard, ever managed to challenge him successfully- they'd be on his side again. True loyalty was increasingly hard to find.

Did Sebastian possess such an admirable trait? It was crucial, especially if he went through with his desire to have this gifted wizard as the final member in his Inner Circle. It had been so long since the spot had been filled, not since the unanticipated death of Lestrange. But Lestrange had served him well, who would have thought that the little Potter brat would have been able to repel a Killing curse at such an age? Poor Lestrange had incidentally been in the range of the backfired Avada Kedavra.

Never had Voldemort come so close to dying as he had that day. For some reason the curse had bounced in the opposite direction, striking Lestrange but not himself. Considering how instantly Lestrange had perished, it was possible it would have killed him too. Who else had the power to kill him with all the spells he'd cast to make himself nearly invincible to death but himself?

He had had to resort to the muggle method of killing the threat to his person because the stupid biddy Trelawney had actually made a true prophecy! Neither he nor that Potter brat could really live while the other was alive. Well, strangling had worked. Sometimes, magic wasn't always the easiest way to kill a person. Physical torture did it's duty extracting information and slowly killing them. And the Potter brat being a baby had only made it easier. The satisfaction of squeezing his potential rival to death had been gratifying.

No threat now to his throne. In the intervening years, he had only grown stronger yet still even with the reenacting of the Triwizard Tournament- he had yet to find a wizard strong enough to replace Lestrange. Viktor Krum, last Tournament's Triwizard Champion had potential but had not proven magically adept enough. His forte rested more with capturing the snitch than with spell casting with the wand.

But everything he had witnessed and heard thus far from Sebastian was highly promising. A visible patronus that could dispatch numerous dementers? Impressive. Then to have the rare gift of parseltongue and reason with Asta- astonishing. Finally, to overcome both Unforgivables and to cast one- brilliant. This was the wizard that he'd been looking for, for the many years.

He needed to speak to Sebastian personally. But first he had to finalize the Tournament. Who to choose to win? It came down to his score, as he saw that Dumbledore had scored Sebastian higher than Sahar while the rest had scored them the same. Sebastian just needed one more point to carry home the Goblet of Fire back to Hogwarts. Did he give the victory to Sahar or to Sebastian?

His daughter was a good witch but not as strong as Sebastian, since she hadn't hit her majority yet. While girls tended to physically mature faster than boys, they hit their magical maturation slower. Bellatrix hadn't hit hers until 21, and she was one of the earliest ones. Sahar could still improve, but that didn't change the fact that there was a great possibility that she'd never be as strong as Sebastian. Indeed, there was no doubt that she was not a parseltongue.

When he had realized that, he had been morbidly disappointed. His daughter didn't share his gift, even if as Bellatrix pointed out she had inherited the other prominent Slytherin inheritance- she was a serpent Animagus. He narrowed his crimson eyes and waved his wand swiftly. He gave Sebastian the same score that Dumbledore had given his pupil, a perfect 10- one point higher than Sahar, the one point that declared Sebastian Biggerstaff the Triwizard Champion.

He'd won, by a point- a point that Voldemort had given to him over his favorite Death Eater's daughter. He was still shaking inside, even though it had been hours after he'd known because he was about to receive the Goblet of Fire from the Dark Lord to bring it back to Hogwarts where the next Triwizard Tournament would be held. It was different from seeing Voldemort from afar, he'd actually have to stand face to face with his parents' murderer.

"It's all right," Draco told him soothingly. "All you've got to do is plaster that pretty boy smile of yours on your face and nod your head. That's all that people will be looking for. With that charming smile of yours, you'll win them all over without having to say a word."

Harry snorted. That would be true only if Draco was referring to himself. "The one that has the charming smile is you, Dray."

"You've got one too," Draco retorted firmly. "You've got a killer smile."

"Yeah, right," Harry responded with keen disbelief. "You're joking."

"He's not," Hermione added quite seriously. "You both have great smiles, but yours Bast, tend to me more innocent so they've got this sweetness to them that Dray's lack. Not that that's bad. You both are different from each other, after all."

Harry smiled, it was too like Hermione not to be all sugar coated around Draco even if they were in a relationship. They were in a relationship, weren't they? He glanced back and forth between them. It certainly seemed like they were in a relationship. But it would be better to ask then to assume. "You two have started dating, right?"

Apparently not, as Draco's and Hermione's eyes flew open in complete shock. "You haven't?" Harry muttered in disbelief. Well, it couldn't be an issue with Hermione since she'd given Draco the pendant. It had to be Draco that was stalling. "Why haven't you asked her out yet? I know you like her! At night all you do is talk about her! Hermione this! Hermione that!"

Draco blushed a deep red and shuffled his feet. Shuffling was not a normal thing for a Malfoy to do. It spoke volumes of discomfort and Malfoys didn't usually let it be known they were uncomfortable. "You need to get going," Draco responded instead. "You shouldn't keep him waiting."

"Then you should stop stalling," Harry retorted, his eyes bearing down on Draco's. "Why haven't you asked her out? You like her, she likes you- why not?"

"Because it's not as easy as that!" Draco exclaimed in a rush. "Even if we did date each other, no one else can know! There's nothing more that I want to do than to be with Hermione, god knows I like her tremendous- I'm infatuated with her! Do you think I've been oblivious all this time? I knew Hermione liked me.

"Merlin knows when I started falling for her! I've tried to ignore it, thinking it was only a passing crush. With the pendant, it was not a startling revelation- more like an epiphany that it wasn't some passing feeling. It was something real and deep. But you don't understand, Bast, my father is a pureblood fanatic! He won't allow me to be with her, and it's not fair to Hermione."

"You know," Hermione said softly, "it's true that it's not fair to me, and I know you've explained this to me. However, I don't care. We can keep it a secret if you like. It's not like we even know that it's going to work. We like each other tremendously, but maybe being best friends is all we're meant to be and we're stressing out for no good reason. If we don't try, we won't ever know."

"She's right, you know," Harry remarked. "You two ought to try."

Draco fell silent, glancing between his two best friends with an indecisive frown marring his usual pale perfection. "You need to leave, the Dark Lord does not like to be kept waiting." His frown deepened when neither Sebastian nor Hermione moved. "We can talk about this later," he said finally. "But now, we really have to get to the Main Hall. The ending ceremony is about to begin, and Bast can't be late."

Sebastian was nervous, Severus could see this clearly. It stuck Severus hard how he could read Sebastian so well. It wasn't like he wasn't able to tell what people were thinking or feeling, he'd always been able to do that- had to, to watch that damn mutt's back. But with Sebastian, it was not rational deduction that let him presume what was going on in the other person's mind- it was just that he knew.

It was frightening to think that Sebastian could read his mind in the same fashion, but that was likely the case. How Sebastian always knew what potion ingredient to hand him even though he only halfway looked in the direction often startled him. Considering most of the potions he worked on were experimental, they didn't have any set recipe. It was like Sebastian knew exactly how his mind was thinking to predict what he'd want.

They had a connection, it was as simple as that. There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to strengthen the link between them, it was so obvious that both of them wanted more. But it could not be, not if Voldemort wanted Sebastian- whether for himself or for Sahar was still up for debate. Either way, the Dark Lord had left a claim on Sebastian- a claim that could not be ignored.

Did he even dare try to start the relationship he'd deliberately delayed 'til the end of Sebastian's Hogwarts career? He'd done that at that time since it would not look good for him to be in a relationship with a student. But after Hogwarts, it didn't really matter. There was already a precedent of that sort, between Dumbledore and McGonagall. Their age gap was even more significant that his and Sebastian's.

The problem was that if Voldemort wanted Sebastian, he'd get Sebastian. Severus only hoped that Sebastian would be wise enough not to show his true colors in front of the Dark Lord. Getting himself killed was not going to help the precious cause of the Light side. If anything, they needed all the numbers that they could get. Severus only prayed that Sebastian would see that there was a balance and that if it was destroyed, it would push the wizarding world into a destructive war.

"Good evening," Karkaroff greeted the guests that had arrived to watch the Goblet of Fire pass from Durmstrang's Triwizard Champion to the newly proclaimed Hogwarts' Triwizard Champion, Sebastian Biggerstaff. "We're here to acknowledge the outstanding efforts from all the champions," his eyes rested primarily on Sahar Lestrange, who sat huddled within a group of her supporters. "And to pass the Goblet of Fire to this Triwizard's Tournament Champion, Sebastian Biggerstaff of Hogwarts."

That was Sebastian's signal. Draco gave his best friend a friendly nudge to get going. He knew Sebastian was nervous, who wouldn't be? He might have been in the Dark Lord's presence throughout his childhood, but that didn't make it any easier. The Dark Lord was impressive and frightening all the same time. And Draco was afraid for Sebastian, very afraid.

He'd never thought that Sebastian would win. He'd always assumed that his cousin, Sahar would win. She was his daughter after all. Everyone knew of Bellatrix's temper, she would not be pleased that Sahar hadn't won. It wasn't that she was overly fond of her daughter, but she saw Sahar as a pawn to be used in continuing to garner the Dark Lord's favor. Sahar might be vindictive and cruel, but how could she be any other way when she'd grown up watching her mother?

That power hungry bitch, Draco thought callously, but his eyes softened when they rested on his only cousin. When they were young, they had been great friends. Bellatrix had been too busy trying to climb her way to the top of the Death Eater ranks to spend too much time with Sahar, thus Narcissa had ended up taking care of Sahar the bulk of her childhood. But when Sahar had turned seven, she had been taken away by Bellatrix since she thought her little sister was babying her daughter far too much.

Before that Sahar had been an exuberantly happy child, but after that she had changed. She had become more solemn and withdrawn, only recently had her dominate personality come forth. With her mother especially, she was always submissive- whipped by her mother's controlling fist. He sighed, it hurt to see how much Sahar had to be hurting inside. She had been so loving when she was little, always wanting hugs and kisses. To see her change so much made his heart chill.

It must be killing Sahar to know that her father had chosen Sebastian over her. It was only the strength that had to be inside of her to survive Bellatrix's harsh teachings that kept her back straight and her eyes tearless. Draco knew, ever since Sahar had started attending Durmstrang, that she had been trying to garner her father's love. For Bellatrix, it was the power that came through Voldemort- for Sahar, it was his love. That was all she wanted. That was what she never received- unconditional love.

As sad as he was for his cousin, he was dreadfully afraid for Sebastian. If Sahar had won, it would have only confirmed her birthright. But victory for Sebastian was dangerous, it was a well known but not terribly spoken rumor that every Triwizard victor came under the dark influence. The Tournament was a prolific and challenging way to weed through the best from the wizarding schools to find the best wizards to join the Death Eater ranks.

Becoming a Death Eater invariably changed everyone, look at Viktor Krum. He had gone from an intense, but reasonable star Quidditch player to a dark, volatile wizard whose wand was always itching to be used. While he still played Seeker for Bulgaria, his main job was regulating international Quidditch in accordance to the Dark Lord's laws. He wasn't ever going to be a top ranked Death Eater, but he was still one.

For Sebastian, it was different. He had the magical ability to be, even within the Inner Circle. It was a position that he knew Bellatrix highly coveted for Sahar, that his own father desired for him too. Draco had always assumed that it would go to Sahar, considering that she was his daughter. But the picture had dramatically changed. Oh yes, everything was skewed now as he watched Voldemort take to the platform with the Goblet of Fire in his hands, readying to hand it to Sebastian. Sahar should have won, now that she hadn't- everything was going to be different.